


For The Missing

by AtLeastWeWontBeLonelyInHell



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, dark themes, dark&twisty, re-post from 2013
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 05:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtLeastWeWontBeLonelyInHell/pseuds/AtLeastWeWontBeLonelyInHell
Summary: „Maybe I should work as a kindergartner intead,“ Teresa mumbles.Cho looks at her quizzically. „And do what exactly?“„Trying to keep them in line,“ she tells him. Fighting the image of herself in a church pleading Jane to go put the gun down.„Yeah right,“ Cho all but laughs. „Because that worked out so well the last time.“ Shaking his head doubtfully at her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And a BIG special thank you goes to the wonderful clairebare for beta reading!

**For The Missing**

**.**

**.**

Teresa Lisbon can’t help but smile at the sight of the two babies sleeping side by side in their crip. Both of them looking so peaceful, she can’t help but being jealous.

She takes another sip of her champagne, trying to ignore the laughter and chattering coming from downstairs and letting her gaze wander through the room.

It’s colored in blue and pink, yellow stars all over the white ceiling. Stuffed animals and oversized pillows on the floor, bookshelfs filled with fairytale books and babytoys, clothes and diapers. Every little thing chosen wisly. _(Grace really did a beautiful job)._

Lisbon isn’t sure how long she’s been standing there, watching Julia and Julian Rigsby peacfully sleeping in their twin bed, when Grace finds her.

„There you are. We were looking for you,“ she tells her softly when she comes to a sudden halt beside her.

„I’m sorry,“ Lisbon explains quietly. „I just couldn’t resist taking another look at them.“

„It’s fine, no need to apologize. It’s been a long day and I understand if you need a break. My family can be very annoying.“ She chuckles and Lisbon laughs with her for a moment.  _(Thinking about that talk she had with one of Grace’s cousins about gardening)._

„Thank you for the blankets by the way, they’re really pretty.“

„I’m glad you like them, I wasn’t sure what to get them for their christening.“ The truth is, she didn’t even plan on coming in the first place. It had been Cho, talking her into it.  _(Threatening her)._  Until she finally agreed to come.

And she’d gotten damn lucky that her deputy’s wife had given birth recently and he’d told her about those handmade blankets from Leila’s in town.

„Teresa, are you alright?“ It’s Grace hand on her arm that makes her look up again.

„Of course,“ she answers quickly. „I’m fine.“ She really isn’t in the mood for another talk about her sanity.  _(Cho already started one two hours ago)._ (But of course she’s lying). And she knows the younger woman knows too. _(It’s written in her eyes)._ But she’s not saying anything and Lisbon is greatful for that.

„I should go,“ she tells Grace. „It’s a four hour drive after all.“

„You can stay here, you know? We have a guestroom.“

„I would love too, Grace, really. But I have to be back at work first thing tomorrow morning.“ She knows how stupid that sounds.  _(Living in a little town where nothing bad happens anyway)._

„Teresa, I think you’re not sober enough to drive.“

For a second Lisbon just stands there, trying to ignore that pitiful look that the read haired woman gives her.

„I mean I wasn’t keeping tracks on how much you drank today, Teresa, but…“ Grace keeps babbling and Lisbon has to surpress a laugh.

If it wouldn’t have been so damn tragic, it would have been almost funny how insecure her former agent was.  _(Even_  a _fter all these years)._

„I’m fine, Grace,“ is what she tells her again, before walking to the stairs. But before she’s halfway down, she already spots Cho waiting at the front door.  _(Her coat and her purse in his hands)._ A look on his face that makes clear he isn’t going to argue with her about that.

_(And here we go again)._

She tries her best to smile, while putting her empty glass down on a drawer when she comes to a halt beside him. Knowing there was indeed no point in making a scene at a house that wasn’t her own _. (In front of all these people she didn’t even really know)._ And she would lose the battle anway.

So she just gives him an angry look, before letting him help her sliding into the sleeves of her coat almost too easily.  _(They’ve done that far too often)._

„I’ll send my deputy for the car tomorrow,“ she informs Grace, who’s still watching her with a worried expression.

„Teresa“ she begins again and Lisbon knows what’s about to come.  _(The same thing that always comes)._  The reason why she tries not to visit them.

And so she closes the gap between them by her own, hugging her former co worker tightly. „I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Alright?“  _(Hoping she’ll just drop the matter for tonight)._

„And thank you for the invitation. It was a beautiful christening.“ Proudly realizing that it had been enough to distract her.

„Thank you,“ Grace replies with a happy smile. „It was nice seeing you, you should really come by more often.“

„Yes, you’re right,“ Lisbon nods. „I’ll do that.“ _(It’s a lie)._ Through and through. But it comes as easily over her lips, as if she would be telling her the truth.

„Are you already heading back home?“ It’s Rigsby coming into the hallway with Ben sitting on his arm.

But this time it’s Cho who answers. Telling him that they both have to be back at work tomorrow morning.

And then it’s Rigsbys turn to tell them to come by more often and she just nods, trying her best to keep up her fake smile. Standing up on her tiptoes to give Ben a slight kiss on his forehead, before hugging Rigsby as well. Waving her goodbyes and following Cho out the frontdoor into the cold winter night.

.

She keeps watching the victorian house in the rearview mirror until she can’t see it anymore, before she casts an angry side glance at Cho.

„I could have driven home by myself, you know,“ she finally snaps at him.  _(Her smile completely vanished from her face)._

„Yeah, of course.“ He replies without even looking at her. „Just tell me, exactly how many drinks have you had?“

„I don’t know,“ she mutters slightly annoyed.  _(Trying to ignore the fact that she’s blushing)._  „Not that much.“

„I bet.“ His expression is stoic like always. His eyes directed to the road. (Not believing a single word she’s saying).  _(And why should he)._

She looks away from him and out of the window.  _(Darkness flying by)._  Raindrops starting to fall and sliding down the glass.

 _(And she’s almost sure she can feel Janes hand in her own). (The two of them standing side by side on a porch in the middle of nowhere)._  („Shall we?“)

„They remind me of Jane you know,“ she whispers after a while.

„Who?“ he asks startled.

„Kids,“ she mumbles. „Sometimes when I watch them playing on the playground, it’s like watching Jane.“

„You’re drunk,“ he tells her bluntly.  _(Obviously not interested in her absurd babbling)._

„I’m not drunk. Tipsy maybe,“ she admits quietly.

But he just scoffs. „Doesn’t make much difference to me.“  _  
_

„Maybe I should quit being a cop,“ she keeps talking. Suddenly pretty aware how slurred her words are.  _(Maybe he’s right)._  Maybe she is drunk.

„You’re not just a cop. You’re the sheriff, remember?“ He tells her firmly.  _  
_

But she’s not really paying attention to what he’s saying. „Maybe I should work as a kindergartner intead,“ she mumbles.  _(Thinking about before, when she was playing with Ben in his room)._

He looks at her quizzically. „And do what exactly?“

„Trying to keep them in line,“ she tells him.  _(Fighting the image of herself in a church pleading Jane to go put the gun down)._

„Yeah right,“ Cho all but laughs. „Because that worked out so well the last time.“ Shaking his head doubtfully at her.

And she knows he’s just annoyed with her drunken rambling. Annoyed with taking care of her.  _(And it’s not like she wouldn’t know that)_. Of course she does. And she can’t even blame him. _(To be honest, she’s surprised he’s still there)._

But it hurts anyway.

After that she falls silent and keeps watching the dark. Listening to the rain drumming against the car.  _(Until she’s slowly drifting off to sleep)._

And then she’s dreaming. Dreaming about a pony in her office, about dancing at a highschool reunion and about a visit in the zoo. She’s dreaming about waves of blonde hair, eyes blue as the ocean and laughter filling the silence. ( _About his hand holding on to hers out there in the desert)._ His voice whispering her name.

 _(God luck Teresa, love you)._  (You can call me Patrick, Teresa).  _(I’m always going to save you Lisbon)._  (I want you to know I will always be there for you).  _(Thank you, Lisbon)._ (I’m sorry).

And she’s dreaming about a broken turqoise tea cup on the floor, bloody red smiles painted on bedroom walls. (Screams and tears). A blonde little girl crying out for help. (A church). (A dead body). A last goodbye kiss. _(Darkness) . (Emptiness)._

She wakes up screaming, tears blurring her vision and it takes her a while to realize she’s still in that car with Cho on her way home.

She’s gasping for air, a shaking hand pressed over her mouth to keep her stomach contents from spilling over the dashboard. And it’s just then that Cho jerks the wheel violently _– (cursing under his breath)-_  until his car comes to a sudden halt.

Just in time for her to stumble out of the door and into the rain. Throwing up at the side of the road.

.

When she get’s back into his car  _-(her coat and her dress ruined for good)-_  he’s eying her carefully. Handing her a tissue.

„Are you okay?“ he asks her worriedly and she nods.

„I just want to go home.“

She can feel his gaze lingering over her for a while – _(waiting for her to talk to him)-_  before he gives up and starts the engine instead.

„I miss him,“ she whispers, as soon as they’re on the road again.  _(Painfully aware how pathetic she sounds)._  „It’s been more then two years and I still miss him.“

She’s biting her lip to fight the tears. The pain in her chest increasing with every breath she takes.  _(And she hates it)._ Hates it with a burning passion.

Just like she hates Jane. _(For making her fall in love with him)._   _(And disappearing). (For killing a man). (For running)._ (And for not coming back to her).

„I know,“ Cho replies.  _(Searching for her hand in the darkness of his car)._  „I know, Teresa. I know.“

They stay silent for the rest of the drive, both of them staring out into the rain. Thinking about a different time. About a different life.

 _(In Sacramento)._  Years ago.

.

„Do you want me to stay with you?“ he asks her when they finally arrive at her house.

And she wants to say yes. ( _Because she hates the silence)_. Hates being alone in that empty house with all those memories in her head. But she knows it’s to much to ask.

„No, I’ll be fine. You can go home.“

„Are you sure?“

That look on his face far too familiar. And he has every right to look at her like that.  _(She’s a mess)._ A fucking mess.

„If he’d come back tomorrow, do you think things would be different?“ he asks her all of a sudden and she can’t help but stare at him quizzically.

„What do you mean?“

„Do you think things would go back to how they were? Back in Sacramento I mean?“

„I don’t know,“ she tells him honestly.  _(Her hand already on the door)._  „But I hope it would. At least that’s what I keep telling myself to get through the day.“

She sees him nod. _(And she’s sure it’s what he keeps telling himself)._ Although their reasons weren’t quite the same.

„Goodnight, Cho. And thank’s for the ride home,“ she tells him finally, before getting out of his car.

„Goodnight. I’ll call you tomorrow.“  _(But she already knew he would)._  He always does. (Making sure she hasn’t killed herself yet).

She keeps standing on the porch until his car disappears into the darkness.  _(Fighting with her feelings when she finally opens her frontdoor)._

It’s dark and cold and even after two years, filled with a few unpacked moving boxes.  _(Some things just never change)._

She locks the door twice, setting the alarm system and letting her wet coat drop carelessly on the floorboards. Meeting her own expression in the hallway mirror.

 _(No miracle they’re treating me like a lunatic, she thinks)._ She sure looks like one.

She doesn’t bother getting out of her spoiled dress, before making her way to the living room. Sinking down on the old worn leather couch with a sigh.  _(Closing her eyes wearily)._

It had taken almost a whole year to get the damn thing back from the FBI, but she’d kept fighting until they gave in.  _(But she’s sure Cho had a big part in that too, even when he still denies it)._

She grabs a blanket from the armrest and wraps herself in, still listening to the rain drumming against her window sill. Staring at the tea cup on her drawer.

It had taken ages to glue it back together. Hours to find the last shard on that dirty floor in the bullpen.  _(And she still can’t let go, can she?)_

(Two years and she’s still waiting for him to  _come home_ ).

She feels her eyes falling shut.  _(And herself drifting off into another restless sleep)._

Filled with memories of a long lost time.

**.**

**.**


	2. Part II

**For The Missing**

**Part II**

**.**

**.**

It’s the nerv-racking ringing of her phone that makes her open her eyes. She’s blinking once, twice. Before searching her coffee table for the ringing subject  _(Fighting the urge to throw it against the wall when she finally finds it)._

„What is it…“ she snaps and isn’t surprised to hear Chos voice at the other end of the line.

„Get up,“ he tells her firmly and she can hear the traffic in the background. Telling her that it was indeed time for her to get to work. _  
_

„I hate you, you know,“ she mutters wearily, trying to sit up.

„Yeah, I know. It’s what you tell me every morning. And now get up, take a shower and go to work.“

Instead of an answer she just groans in pain when she comes to a sitting position, fighting the urge to throw up on her floor.

„Are you up?“

„Yeah,“ she mumbles. Rubbing her aching temples. And scolding herself for drinking too much champagne the night before. She knew why she didn’t want to go to that christening.

„You’re lying.“

„I’m not lying god damnit!“ she mutters through clenched teeth. „Did you put cameras in my drawers or something?“

„I don’t need a camera to know you’re lying. And I’m not a CIA Agent by the way.“

She groans again, struggling to stand up.  _(And is surpised when she actually succeeds)._

„Are you up now?“ he asks her dryly and she just rolls her eyes at his persistence.

„Yes, I am.“

„Great, have a nice day then. I’ll meet you around eight at Lucys for dinner.“

„What?“ she asks alarmed. One hand on her coffee table to keep herself from falling over. „No Cho I…“

„Don’t make me come and get you,“ her warns her.

„Cho…wait… I…“ But the line wents dead before she has the time to say something useful.

„Bastard…“she mutters angrily, letting her phone drop back on the table before making her way upstairs.

.

She stands under the hot shower until the water runs cold, gets herself dressed in a hurry and takes a few advil before heading out of the house. Realizing just then that her car’s still parked four hours away in front of the Rigsby family manson.

Rubbing her temples slightly, she sighs before starting to walk in the direction of the station. Keeping her fake smile in place and greeting the locals on her way.

It’s only two weeks until Christmas and there are already millions of fairylights hang up all over town, asweel as Santa Claus, reindeers and even a big sleigh near the church.

And even through she was living in this town for more than two years now, she was still amazed how peaceful it was.  _(It probably fulifilled every freaking cliche on that planet)_. And maybe that’s the reason Virgil got her that job offer in the first place.

She buys herself a cup of coffee at the dinner, before heading towards the station. Weaving at the kids on their way to school.

Her office assistant Marie is already sitting on her desk when she comes in, handing her a office folder and a plate with Christmas cookies.

Lisbon takes them thanfully  _-(even through she knows she’s not going to eat them anyway)-_  and tries her best to ignore those cheerful christmas songs playing on the radio.

She leaves Marie her keys and tells her to send someone to get her car back for her, before heading in the direction of her office at the end of the hallway.

She just sat down, when she spots Emily, the six year old daughter of one of her officers, poking her head into the room.

„Hey sweetie,“ Lisbon greets her with a smile on her face.  _(A real smile this time)._  „Shouldn’t you be on your way to school right now?“

„I’m on my way“, the little girl tells her happily, showing her a pink lunch box with a unicorn, to confirm it. „I just came by to ask you something.“

„Fire away,“ Lisbon tells her before rounding her desk and going down to her knees to look the girl in the eye. „Tell me, what can I do for you little Miss Sunshine?“

„Well monday it’s career day at school,“ she explains with a sincere voice. „And since my mommy is busy baking christmas cookies with the angels I wanted to ask you if you would like to come?“

For a second Lisbon is stunned. She really didn’t expect that. And for a moment she wants to tell her no.  _(For more than one reason)._ And not just the obvious one that she shouldn’t be a role model for a little girl. _(Or anyone else for that matter)._

But it’s that hopeful look in Emilys green eyes that won’t let her deny her wish.  _(And how could she?)_

There’s no way she’s saying no to a motherless child that looks just like herself in that age. A girl that loves to sit by her side in her office drawing pictures. A little girl that for some obscure reason really likes her.  _(She can’t say no)._

„Did you ask your daddy if that’s fine with him?“ Lisbon asks the girl softly. „I mean he’s a police officer, too. And maybe he wants to go there with you, you know?“ But Emily just shakes her head, her raven black curls flying.

„It’s fine. He said I could ask you if I want you to come with me.“ She smiles one of her beaming smiles at her, before pointing into the hallway and whispering. „He’s waiting outside.“

Lisbon can’t help but laugh.

„Alright Em, then tell him it will be my pleasure to go with you. Just tell a time and I’ll be there.“

„Thank you!“ The girl is squealing with joy, putting her little arms around Lisbons neck to hug her. Smiling brightly. „I’m gonna tell him and my teacher Mrs. Baker! It’s going to be so great!“ And with that she’s already out the door and Lisbon can hear her voice from the hallway.

„She said yes, daddy! It’s going to be so awesome!“

Smiling, Lisbon makes a step forward to sneak a peek outside. Watching the little girl beside her father, jumping up and down in excitment. And Matthew trying his best to calm his daughter down.

When his eyes meet Lisbons for a second, he nods at her. Mouthing a silent thank you in her direction. And she nods back, before she watches them walking out of the station.

And for a moment she’s almost sure that Jane’s standing right beside her, telling her once again.  _(It’s nice to be needed)._

And it sure is.

.

„Grace and Wayne invited us to spend Christmas with them and the kids.“

„What?“ Lisbon almost chokes on her coffee.

They’re sitting at Lucys dinner, at their usual place in the back. Far away from the other customers, _s_ o they can talk without anyone listening.

„I told them we’d come,“ Cho tells her firmly, taking another fork full of his salad.

„No, no way Cho. No.“  _(Had he lost his mind?)_ „You didn’t even consider asking me first?“ she asks him angrily, putting her coffee mug back down on the table.

„No, I didn’t. You would have said no anyway.“

„Damn right I would have,“ she tells him. But he just shrugs.

„Eat,“ he tells her while pointing with his fork at her plate.

„I did. I’m full.“

„No, you didn’t even take a single bite. You just tossed it around on your plate to make it look like you ate something.“

She feels herself blushing. „Whatever,“ she mumbles. „I’m just not hungry.“  _(She hates how he can look right through her)._

„Eat,“ he tells her again. Pushing her plate back in front of her. „We’re not leaving until you ate something.“

She bits her lip angrily, staring down at her salad and her sandwich. She doesn’t feel like eating.  _(She’s not going to keep it down for long anyway)._ So where’s the point in eating?

She takes the damn fork anyway, looking down at her plate and trying to convince herself she can do it. (But the truth is she can’t).

„Do you really think he would have wanted that?“

„What are you talking about now?“

„Jane, Teresa. I’m talking about Jane.“

For a moment she falls silent  _-(like always when someone says his name out loud)-_  before putting her fork back down on the table.

„I doubt he cares, Cho“. She tells him dryly, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. „The FBI made him that offer months ago and he decided it wasn’t enough to come back for.“

„We don’t know that.“

„We don’t know?“ Now she does look at him, trying to keep her voice down. „He’s not here, is he? He didn’t take the offer, did he?He’s still God knows where, doing God knows what and there’s just not enough to come back for.“

„Teresa,…“

„Don’t Teresa me. I’m done with this crap.“ She pushes her plate aside, while leaning back on her seat and fighting the anger raging inside of her. _(Reminding herself to focus)._

Reminding herself that she’s in a public place and that if she’s not able to keep it together, it’s going be all over town first thing tomorrow morning.  _(And that’s the last thing she needs right now)._

„How do you think this is going to end if you keep up this behavior?“ he asks her. And it’s that look on his face that makes her snap.

„I don’t care as long as it happens soon and with a bullet in my head.“ She wants to hurt him. (I _t’s the only thing she has left)._ But he just grimaces.

„Thanks for the image,“ he replies disgusted, shoving his salad aside. „It’s always a pleasure eating with you.“

She scoffs at him. „May I remind you, that you insisted on coming here?“  _(God, how much she hates him sometimes)._

They fall silent for a while. Both of them staring out into the darkness, watching cars passing by and dwelling on their thoughts.

Her head starts hurting again and she scolds herself for not taking advil with her. She should have known it would end like this after last night. She starts rubbing her temples.  _(Hoping he’ll leave her alone soon)._

She just wants to go home, take a few pills and fall asleep on her couch.  _(His couch)._  (Theirs). Her face burried in one of his jackets she found in the attic after he left.

„You have to stop blaming yourself, Teresa.“

„Excuse me?“ She tears her gaze away from the window.

„You’re just like him,“ Cho tells her. „Can’t you see that? You’re living in an empty house, filled with memories. And you keep blaming yourself for things you never could have stopped from happening.“

„How could I not blame myself,“ she whispers hoarsely, leaning over the table slightly and staring at him. Unable to stop her words from spilling. „He took my gun. He told me to trust him and for some stupid reason I did. And then he killed a man and no matter how much that guy deserved to die, it was wrong. How can I not blame myself? I was suppossed to keep Jane from doing just that. It was the only thing I had to do.“

She stops, her tears already on the verge of falling and she has to fight hard to keep them at bay. Trying to calm herself back down. The memories of that day far too painful.

„I failed. I even gave him my gun just because he asked me to. I let him go even when I knew what he would do.“ She looks away, closing her eyes for a second.

„He looked me in the eye and told me that he loves me. He kissed me and…“ her voice breaks and a single tear escapes, runing slowly down her cheek. „And then he was gone. I wasn’t enough to keep him from doing it and I wasn’t enough to keep him here. “

„I know, Teresa.“ He reminds her, trying to get a hold of her hand, but she just pushes him away. „I was there, too.“

And of course she knows. (They all were there that day). Making themself guilty as well.

„I wasn’t enough,“ she whispers again, her eyes glued to the table. „I never was and I never will be. I think he made that pretty clear.“

„You don’t know that either,“ Cho starts again. „We don’t know why he didn’t take the offer.“

„It doesn’t matter why he didn’t.“ She turns her head around furiously. „He could have come back weeks ago, but he didn’t. He could have called. But he didn’t. Why didn’t he even call me?“

She’d been so damn stupid. Naive. And yet, she still keeps waiting.  _(Of course she does)._  She always will. It’s wrong and stupid and she knows he won’t call her anyway. But she won’t give up waiting.  _(Never)._  She can’t.

„I gave him twelve years of my life,“ she adds weakly. „Twelve years, Cho“.  _(And she would give him twenty more if he would just come back home)._ She really was a lost cause.

„And he doesn’t even give a damn about me.“

„I shouldn’t have told you about that offer in the first place,“ Cho admits quietly after a while. But she just shakes her head at him.

„You told me because you were sure he would come back as soon as he knew he could. And you just wanted to make me feel better.“

„Yeah and I made it even worse. I mean look at you.“

She can’t help but laugh. Even through it really isn’t funny at all. But it’s true, things became even worse after that.

„You didn’t mean too,“ she assures him. And he really didn’t mean her any harm, she knows that.

„Maybe you should try moving on, Teresa. Start a new life. You could…“

He keeps talking, but she’s not listening anymore. She knows he just means well, but she hates how people keep telling her what to do.  _(She’s sick of it)._

It’s not like they know what she’s feeling. It’s not like they have to deal with all this pain and anger inside of her. With all those broken dreams, her whole life nothing more than a tragic story from a television show.

„You know what, Cho,“ she interrupts him firmly, searching her jacket for money. „I think it’s time for you to stop saving me. You tried and I appreciate that. But it’s enough.“

She pulls a few dollar notes out of her jacket pocket and throws them carelessly on the table before standing up. Trying her best to keep her smile and her pride on her way out off the dinner, telling people goodnight.  _(She’s the Sheriff after all, isn’t she?)_

She doesn’t wait for Cho to come after her, doesn’t even take a look around. She just keeps walking.  _(Tears blurring her vision)_. The pain in her chest making it almost impossible to breathe.

And she just wants it to stop.  _(Everything)._  Wants to forget. Wants those memories to go away. Forever this time.

She’s halfway down the street when Cho catches up with her, grabbing her arm roughly and spinning her around to face him. About to yell at her.  _(For the first time ever)._

And she’s almost glad to see the anger is his eyes. Praying that this is the end. That this is the last time they talk. That he won’t call her again in the morning. That he finally leaves her alone so she can surrender in her own misery.

But he doesn’t even raise his voice. He just pulls her into his arms. _(Holding her so close it hurts)._

Until she’s finally bursting into tears.

.

If someone had told him a few years ago that he would end up on a street, in a small town in the middle of the night with Teresa Lisbon crying against his shoulder, he would have laughed.

But this isn’t funny. It stopped being funny years ago and he’s done watching.

He’s going to get that idiot back from South America himself, even when he has to flick him over his shoulder and drag him the whole way back to the States.  _(He really doesn’t care)._ He’s going to bring him back and he’s going to make him pick up the God damn pieces he left.

Cho waits patiently until her sobbing eases, before walking her back home. And no matter how much he despises small towns like that, at least it’s a good thing it takes them only a few minutes before they’re back at her house.

He opens the door with his spare key, doesn’t even bother asking her for her own. While she hangs onto him like he’s a freaking lifeline. And he hates it.  _(Really hates it)._ But who else is there to keep her breathing?

Walking her into the living room, he makes her sit down on the couch before he slids down beside her. She keeps mumbling something, her voice thick with sleep. Grabbing his arm even tighter and her whole body trembling.

Sighing he takes the blanket lying on the floor to wrap her in. Trying to ignore the fact that it’s Janes. Trying to ignore the mess in her place.  _(He’s still surprised how she manages to leave such a chaos behind)._ And she hasn’t even unpacked most of her stuff. There are still plenty of those moving boxes piled up against the walls. _  
_

The only thing that’s carefully placed on top of a drawer is that tea cup. And he can’t keep himself from thinking about that day they called him in and he found her crawling over the dirty bullpen floor looking for turquise shards. Rambling something about gluing the damn thing back together. _(Blood dripping from her fingers on the floor boards)._ And she got pretty damn lucky they didn’t locked her away that day.

Or maybe it wasn’t so much luck after all. He really wasn’t sure about that anymore.

He has to keep himself from groaning out loud, when he spots one of Janes old jackets on the armrest of the couch. He really had to do something about that.  _(Before she ends up with a bullet in her head)._

Because he knows she’s just waiting for him to look away long enough. Knows very well he’s the last thing keeping her from going over the edge.

_(It really was time to bring that idiot back home)._

**.**

**.**


	3. Part III

**For The Missing**

**Part III**

**.**

.

With a sigh, Lisbon puts down her pen. She’s touching the bridge of her nose, trying to will her headache away and watching out of the corner of her eye Emily on the other side of her desk. Drawing a unicorn under a beautiful colored rainbow with her crayons.

She has come by after school and since Matthew has to help with the Christmas decoration at the town square, she is looking after Emily for him. And she has to admit she loves having Emily in her office.

The girl was sitting there for almost an hour now, wearing a cute purple dress with a matching hairband holding back her raven curls, engrossed in yet another beautiful drawing. And Lisbon couldn’t wait to tape it against her office wall. It always made her feel better.  _(Even though she would never admit that out loud, far too afraid it wouldn’t work anymore)._

She sighs again when she realizes her headache won’t go away and allows herself to close her eyes for a second.

At least she wouldn’t have to deal with Cho tonight. He was gone for a few days due to some important case and she was more than happy to spend her night alone on her couch in her living room. _(With a bottle of sleeping pills in her hands)._

„Why are you so sad, Teresa?“

It’s Emilys voice that makes her jump. She looks up startled to find the little girl looking at her with wide eyes.

„Sweetie, I’m not sad,“ she tells her. Trying her best to muster a smile. But Emily just shakes her head.

„Yes, you are sad. You look just like daddy when he’s thinking about mommy.“

 _(Great, now she’s made the kid sad, too). (_ God, what a horrible person she can be). She’s still thinking about a reasonable reply when Emily speaks again.

„Is this about your friend?“

„What friend, Emily? You mean Cho?“

„No, the blonde one.“

„The blonde…“ Lisbon just stares.

„Promise you won’t be mad at me?“

„Yes of course, Em,“ she assures the girl. „Why would I be mad at you?“

She watches the girl stand up from her chair, before bending down on the floor and sticking her hand under the desk. Pulling something out from underneath. When Lisbons gets a closer look, she see’s it’s a picture.

Her hands are already shaking when she finally takes the photo from Emily. Staring at her own face, embraced in Janes arms. The picture someone took of them dancing at that highschool reunion. (She still doesn’t know who send it to her or who had taken it in the first place, but she kept it for years).

It must have slipped down from her desk a while ago, because she has already been looking for it. Thoughtfully she traces the edges. She hadn’t been thinking about some guy that night, like he suggested.  _(She’d only been thinking about him)._  She always had.

„Are you mad at me?“ Emilys voice makes her look up again and Lisbon shakes her head.

„No, I’m not, sweetie“, she soothes her, taking the girl on her lap. „I was already looking for it. Thank you for finding it for me.“

„Is he in Heaven, like my mommy?“ Emily asks her.

„No,“ Lisbon answers, putting her chin softly on the girls head. “ No, he isn’t, Emily.“

„Then why isn’t he here?“

„Well, sometimes people just can’t be together.“

„But you miss him?“

„Yes,“ Lisbon whispers. Still staring at the picutre. „I do miss him.“

„I’m sorry.“

„There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.“ Lisbon tells her, before finally putting the picture in her desk drawer.  _(And out of her sight)_.

They keep sitting there. The little girl on her lap, her little hand in her own. Both of them looking out of the office window into the fairylights glowing in the trees on the main street.

And Lisbon has to admit that it does look beautiful. Even though she’s not in the mood for Christmas.  _(Or anything else for that matter)._

„I know what’s going to cheer you up,“ Emily says suddenly, hoping down from her lap and grabbing her coat from the couch.

Lisbon watches her puzzled for a moment, before standing up as well. „Where are we going?“ she asks, slipping into her jacket.

Emily smiles brightly at her, while putting on her scarf. „Buying some blueberry muffins of course.“

And Teresa Lisbon can’t help but laugh.  _(Blueberry muffins)._  (Of course).

.

„Can you wear your Sheriff Uniform on Monday, Teresa?“

„Of course I can.“

„And can you take your car? You know with the police light and the siren on?“

„Yeah, I think I can do that, too.“

„And can you bring your gun?“

Lisbon chuckles. „I’m gonna go and ask Mr. Baker first and then we’ll see, alright sweetie?“

Emily gives her a nod. „Mr. Baker is nice,“ she says, taking a bite from her muffin. „Maybe you can go and drink coffee with him?“

„I drink my coffee with you Em, I don’t need anyone else.“

The little girl grins and then she’s grinning even brighter and suddenly she’s jumping up from the table.

„Uncle Virgil!“ she screams happily and Lisbon spins around almost instantly to find Emily running into Virgil Minellis arms.

„What are you doing here?“ the little girl squeals in his arms and Lisbon watches them walking back to the table.

„Aww, well,“ Virgil says. „I just woke up this morning and realized how much I miss my little princess,“ he tells Emily before letting his hand rest on Lisbons shoulder for a second, when he walks by.

„Teresa,“ he says softly before putting Emily down on the bench seat and silding in beside her.

„Virgil,“ Lisbon says trully surprised. „What are you doing here?“

„Oh you know“, he shurgs. „My wife get’s all crazy around Christmas. And it’s better to leave her alone for a few days then, so I decided I come by to see Pete and do some fishing.“

„Right,“ she answers. Pretty sure he’s lying, sure Cho called him. And it’s almost impossible to fight her anger.  _(There she thought she could get at least a few days on her own)._

„So what were you two eating?“ Virgil finally breaks the silence, looking at their now empty plates.

„Muffins,“ Emily tells him. „But I’m still hungry.“

„Really? Well then let’s go and get you something else. What do you want, honey?“

„Ice – cream!“ Emily say with a bright grin.

„Alright, ice cream it is!“ Virgil nods approvingly, before taking Emilys hand. „Come on let’s go and get one for Teresa too.“

She listens to them talking about their favourite ice cream on their way to the counter, while she’s leaning back in her seat. Closing her eyes for a second.

_(She would kill Cho)._

As soon as he would come home, she would kill him. He definitely deserved it. _(Virgil, really?)_ What was coming next? Jane?

_(Yeah right, as if)._

.

Two hours later she wants not to kill only Cho, but herself as well.

That ice cream had been a bad idea, even worse than that muffin. And she’s glad Matthew picked up Emily half an hour ago, because she’s in no shape to look after a kid anymore.

„Are you alright, Teresa?“ Virgil asks her worriedly, from the other side of the table. And for a second she thinks about lying. But that’s not going to get her out of there.

„No,“ she groans, putting a hand against her stomach.

„Cho told me you have trouble eating, but I never thought it could be so bad.“

„Well, now you know,“ she whispers. Trying to breathe.  _(Fighting the nausea)._ But it’s not working and she knows she’s going to lose this battle. _  
_

„I need to go home,“ she tells Virgil apologetically, trying to gather enough strength to get up on her own feet. Failing miserably and sinking back down on her seat.

„Maybe you shouldn’t go anywhere,“ he tells her softly, but she just shakes her head. Scolding herself for not leaving earlier. And for eating the damn ice in the first place.

„If someone sees me throwing up on the street,“ she starts weakly. „People are going to assume Cho knocked me up. Everyone is going to talk about that in the morning.“

She groans again. And she knows she has to get out of there.  _(Now)_. And Virgil must have sensed that too.

„I’ll drive you,“ he tells her. Putting a few dollar notes on the table, before standing up. „My car is right outside, lets go.“ _  
_

„You’re sure you want me in your car,“ she tries joking. Even through she’s not feeling much like laughing.

„I’m not worried about my car right now,“ he assures her, while helping her get up.

But luckily, they make it to her house without an incident. And since she wasn’t joking when she told Virgil the whole town would talk about her being pregnant if they saw her puking her guts up, it really is a good thing. _(Because yes, that did happen once)._

And before she’d known what was going on she’d gotten baby clothes delivered to the police station. _(And no, it hadn’t been funny at all)._

Except Chos face when old Mrs. Miller came to their table at Lucys with a knitted baby-jump suit in her hands to congratulad him for becoming a father. That had been pricelss. But beside that, it hadn’t been much fun.

It had made her even more depressed if possible.  _(Because she’d wanted to have kids)._  Once. A long, long time ago. (In a different life).

She stumbles out of the car and into her house, upstairs to her bathroom. Just in time before she finally starts throwing up.

.

When she’s sure there’s nothing left in her stomach, she cleans herself up the best she can manage with her shaking hands. When she makes her way back downstairs, she finds Virgil sitting on her kitchen table and a cup of fennel tea waiting for her.

„You should go and see a doctor,“ he tells her sternly. Worry written all over his face. And she sighs.

„I did,“ she answers, sitting down at the other side of the table. „It’s not as bad as it looks like. I just can’t eat everything.“

„It looks like you can’t eat anything at all.“

„Well, sometimes I can’t.“ She admits. „And I should stop drinking coffee and take those pills instead…“

„What pills?“he interrupts her. Eying her sceptical.

„You know,“ She can’t help but blush. „Antipsychotics. But they make me tired and confused, so I don’t really like taking them.“

„And what are you eating then?“

„Enough Virgil, I’m not going to starve to death. And when I have a good day I can eat pretty normal even without pills.“

„How often do you have one of those?“

„I…“ She let’s her gaze drop to the table. There he caught her. „I … “

„Yeah, that’s what I thought,“ he sighs and she watches him burry his face in his hands.  _(Realizing how tired and how old he looks)._

„It’s not that bad, Virgil,“ she tries her best to assure him. But it’s not working. _(And she should have known)._

„It looks pretty bad to me, Teresa.“  _(Of course it does)._  It is bad.

They fall silent for a while, before he looks up again. Reaching over the table for her hand.

„When I heard Pete wanted to retire two years ago, I got you this job here because I was so sure this would help you get better. Get over the whole thing somehow. But when I look at you…“

He stops talking for a second and it hurts her to see tears building in his eyes.

„It’s getting worse, Teresa. Isn’t it? And it’s my fault, I made you work with him twelve years ago.“

„It’s not your fault, Virgil.“ She shakes her head angrily, withdrawing her hand. „It’s not like you made me fall in love with him.“

„I should have known better, Teresa.“

It’s nonsense.  _(Of course it is)._  But Lisbon knows there’s no point fighting with him about it. He’s going to blame himself anyway. And if she’s familiar with something, than it’s self-loathing.

She takes a sip from her tea, warming her fingers against the mug. Trying to think of something that could make him feel better.  _(And herself)_. At least for now.

And so she starts talking about Emily. The only person that has been able to make her smile since Jane left.

.

Virgil leaves her around ten pm. And she’s glad she got him convinced that she’s fine for tonight. She’s not sure what Cho told him and she’s not sure if she even wants to know. She’s just glad she got him to stay at Pete’s instead of her guestroom.

She gives him a kiss on the cheek and hugs him tightly, before waving him goodbye and watching his car disappear down the main street.

For a moment she keeps standing in her hallway. Unsure what to do next. Listening to the silence around her.

It’s Friday night and the good thing is she doesn’t have to go to work tomorrow.  _(Well unless something would come up, but that never happend before)._

She makes her way upstairs into her bathroom and takes a long hot shower before slipping into one of Janes old button-down shirts. Watching herself in her bathroom mirror, her wet hair falling down her shoulders. Her face almost as white as her bathroom tiles.

Lisbon sighs. Opening the medicine cabinet und looking over the bottles inside.

She wasn’t lying when she told Virgil she hates to take them, it’s true. Except her weekends of course. They’re far too long to deal with them on her own. She takes two blue ones, before adding a sleeping pill to the mix. Knowing that will give her at least a 14 hour sleep.  _(And then if she’s lucky and Virgil does go fishing, she can spend another 14 sleeping on her couch)._

She doesn’t bother getting herself a glass of water, before gulping them down dryly and switching of the light. She makes her way back dowstairs, grabbing the blanket she left carelessly on the floor that morning and settles herself on the leather couch.

And she can’t help thinking about what Virgil said to her earlier that night. It was true, he’d made her work with him twelve years ago.  _(To detain him from fighting a law suit against the CBI)._

How would things have been if she hadn’t agreed? What if Jane never gotten out of the psych ward in the first place? Would she have ended up with that Blake people, too?

Who knows. Maybe. She’d done a lot of stupid things in her life even before Jane came along. She’d lied for Bosco at the begining of her police career. And even before that, she’d made a lot of horrible mistakes. She’d never been the Saint everyone claimed her to be. _(There was a reason her brothers stopped talking to her years ago).  
_

Who knows what she would have gotten herself into without Jane. He kept her busy enough not to think about her own miserable existence. About all the opportunities she’d let go off. How many times did he save her life with that? (Probably more times then she can count).

People always assumed she’d been his lifeline.  _(Even Red John)._  It had been the only reason he kept her alive for all those years. Afraid he would lose his favourite toy, if he’d killed her.

But the truth is she wasn’t. The truth is he was the one keeping her alive, not the other way around. He’d been her lifeline. Her purpose. The only reason she kept going to work day after day after day.

Her head starts to hurt and things become fuzzy. And suddenly it’s hard to think. Her eye lids start to flicker and she’s searching instinktivly for Janes jacket in the dark. Burying her face in it as soon as she gets a hold of it.

She ends up with the image of a little boy with dark curly hair and blue eyes running towards her, calling her mommy. And Jane, standing right beside her. (Holding her hand). And it’s stupid and she hates it.

When tears start running down her cheeks, she knows it’s only due to the pills. (Making her emotional). Weak and helpless like a child. Dreaming and hoping for things she’ll never get.

All of a sudden there’s a girl in front of her, staring at her with wide green eyes and screaming for help. And Lisbon isn’t sure who she is, but she just can’t reach her. No matter how hard she tries.

And then she has to remind herself that she’s just imagining things. (That there is no girl in her living room). That it’s just her head playing tricks on her.

So she just keeps lying there, her face pressed into his jacket. Sobbing like a child until she’s finally drifting off to sleep.

.

Chos flight has been late. More than four hours late to be exact and it took him another two to find some local who was able to drive him to that motel on the beach where Jane is staying.

And now almost six hours later he’s hungry, tired and completely stressed. Not in the mood for games and the only thing he wants is getting back home as fast as possible.

He finds Jane right there where Agent Fisher told him he probably would. Sitting on the beach, barefoot in the sand in nothing more than an old shirt and khaki shorts, staring out into the ocean.  _(Like he has all the time in the world)._

And Cho has to fight the urge to shoot him right then and there in that very moment and end this mess once and for all. (Because of course that’s not going to help Lisbon). And that’s the reason he’s here for eventually.

„Jane,“ is all he says when he comes to a sudden halt a few feet behind him. Crossing his arms before his chest.  _(Waiting)._

„Hey, Cho. What a beautiful day, isn’t it?“

„No, not really,“ is all Cho answers. Not even surprised Jane knew he was there. (And why should he). It’s always been this way.

„I was already wondering when you’d show up,“ Jane tells him, not even looking around to face him. (And this doesn’t surprise him either). It’s just Jane being Jane and Cho isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad sign. (Or a sign at all).

„That’s great.“ He tells him. (Not impressed in the slightest). „Then lets go home.“

„Nah, I don’t think you understand. I’m not going anywhere with you. Although I aprecciate the offer.“

„This isn’t about the FBI, Jane.“

„No? Then what is this about? You’re working for the FBI, aren’t you?“

„I do. But that’s not what I came here for.“

„Then what are you here for? The sun? Surfing?“ Jane finally spins around.  _(Smirking like a teenage boy)._  „Or maybe for the girls?“

Cho doesn’t think twice before punching his fist in his face.  _(Pretty sure he might just broke his nose). (But not really caring about it anyway)._

„That’s for Lisbon,“ he tells him sternly. Watching the golden boy stagger backwards with his hands pressed to his bleeding nose.

„Ow..damn it. That hurt.“

„Yeah? That’s good.“

„What was that for?“ Jane whines. His hands still pressed against his nose. „And what do you even mean with that’s for Lisbon? What the hell did I do? I haven’t seen her in over two years!“

„And you honestly think that’s a good thing?“ Cho can’t believe he’s serious. The whole thing was even worse than he thought.

„That agent told me you guys were fine!“ Jane tells him with a stern look on his face. „That Lisbon was fine!“

That was his excuse? Cho all but stares at him. Because a woman he’d never seen before told him they were fine?  _(What an idiot)._  Now he really wants to shot him.

And since Agent Fisher had done such a pretty good job making his own life a living hell, Cho was going to shot her as well.  _(As soon as he was done with Jane)._

„She’s not fine, Jane. Not even close.“ Cho starts angrily, before grabbing his shirt and shoving him forward in the direction of his motel. „And now hurry up. We have a plane to catch.“

**.**

**.**


	4. Part IV

**For The Missing**

**Part IV**

**.**

**.**

She wakes up screaming, her heart racing and her whole body trembling. Dried tears on her face and her button-down shirt wet with sweat. It takes her a while to remind herself that she’s in her own house, in her own living room and not somewhere else.

That she’s safe and that she’s not chased down by a serial killer or a little girl screaming for her help.

Shivering, she wraps herself into the blanket before standing up on shaky legs and making her way to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.

A look at the clock on her microwave tells her it’s only six am and she can’t help but groan.  _(14 hour sleep, huh?)_

She puts down the empty glass, taking a look outside of the window. Noticing the sky is clear and the sun already up. (So Virgil would go fishing for sure today). Thank God. She really isn’t in the mood for another heart to heart talk.

Lisbon grabs herself a second glass of water, gulping it down with a few vitamin tablets before making her way up to her bathroom. Up there she follows her usual morning routine.

Brushing her teeth, taking a shower and combing her long hair before changing into another one of Janes button-down shirts.

She stares a while at the medicine cabinet, thinking about her options before grabbing the bottle of sleeping pills anyhow. She takes two of them before closing the lid and putting the bottle back in again.

_(It’s not like she has anything else to do anyway)._

.

Lost in his own thoughts Patrick Jane stares out of the window and into the clouds. Watching the sunrise from his seat.

It was the first time in over two years he was wearing one of his suits again.  _(Wearing a suit at all)._  And he had to admit it did feel good. Even though he wasn’t sure why Cho would keep one of his suits for two years.

But that was just another thing he didn’t really understand.

He risks a quick side glance at Cho, who was still looking into the direction of the tv screen with a stoic expression on his face.

He hadn’t spoken a single word to him since they’d gotten onto that plane. Truth to be told he hadn’t even looked at him once and maybe that was a good thing, because that look he’d given him on the beach had made pretty clear how much he hated him right now.

Jane just wasn’t sure for what exactly. Well, of course there were plenty of reasons he could pick one from, but he wasn’t sure which one exactly. And he did wanted to know that.  _(To be sure)._

He looks back out of the window, thinking about the FBI offer he denied only a few weeks ago. An offer he obviously had taken now, even though he didn’t wanted to.

But since Cho hasn’t handcuffed him to his seat, it’s pretty obvious he isn’t arrested and that had to mean that the deal was up. Otherwise he wouldn’t be on this plane in the first place.

His head hurts just thinking about it, so he stops for a second there. Closing in his eyes in defat.

He really isn’t sure what all this is about, isn’t sure what’d been the real reason for Cho to show up just now and drag him back home with him. (And he did drag him, there’s no other word to describe it).

„So you’re mad at me?“ He finally asks, when he can’t take the silence between them any longer. Looking at him.  _(Searching for an answer in his stoic face)._

„Not for the things you think,“ he answers him without even looking at him. His eyes glued to the tv screen ahead of him.

„But you are?“

„Yes.“

„Because I didn’t take the offer?“ Jane tries again.

„That’s only one reason.“

 _(Great, how many are there?)_  But at least they’re making some sort of progress. That’s a start. (Isn’t it?)

„Where are we going?“ Jane asks, but Cho just shrugs.

„You’ll see.“

And with that he leans back on his seat, closing his eyes. (Obviously not interested in talking to him any longer). And the truth is, Jane can’t even blame him for it.

And so he’s left alone with his own thoughts for the rest of their flight. (Wondering what’s left for him back in the States).

.

_Damn it, Teresa! Just pick up the damn phone, would you?_

Cho’s driving too fast, he’s aware of that. But she’s not answering the damn phone and he knows that can’t be a good sign.  _(It never was)._

„What is it?“ Jane asks from the passangers seat, looking at him quizzically. Clearly not aware about what’s going on. (And how should he?)

„She’s not picking up,“ Cho mutters angrily. Dialing her number once again. Swearing under his breath.

„So?“ Jane asks stunned. „Maybe she’s asleep.“

„Yeah,“ Cho tells him through clenched teeth. „That’s what I’m afraid of.“ He’s ending the call and dialing Minellis number instead, but he isn’t picking up his phone either and that’s enough.

Cho doesn’t bother answering Janes questions anymore, instead he simply throws his phone in his lap, telling him to keep calling her while he steps on the gas and drives even faster. Not caring about speed limits anymore.

He shouldn’t have left her. How could he’ve been so damn stupid? They’ve done that before. And it hadn’t been pretty.  _(Well, pretty close maybe)._

Surprisingly Jane does what he’s been told, not asking further questions. ( _The landscape rushing by dangerously)._

When they finally get to a sudden halt in front of her house, Cho’s out the car in seconds and up her porch and in her house, not even looking back if Jane’s still there or running away once again.  _(And right now, he doens’t even care)._

He spots her lying on her couch in the living room, as soon as he’s through the door. And he just needs a look to know she’s taken something. (Again).

„Teresa!“ He calls her name, rushing into the room. „Teresa, wake up.“ He sinks down beside her, brushing the dark curls out of her pale face and shaking her slightly. „Teresa!“ But there’s no reaction to his pleas.

_(God damnit, what did you do this time?)_

„Teresa,“ he yells again, grabbing her shoulders roughly and pulling her upright into a sitting position against his chest. „Teresa, I need you to wake up, Teresa!“ And this time he sees her eye lids flicker.  _(At least for a second)._ „Teresa, how many pills did you take? Can you remember, Teresa?

He’s searching for her pulse, scanning the room for the pill bottle. But she must have left them in her bathroom.

„Teresa! Teresa, wake up!“

.

It’s someone yelling her name that makes her open her eyes.  _(Well, at least she tries)._  But she’s so tired and her eye lids are just too heavy to keep them open.

But there’s again someone saying her name. And again. And again. It’s getting louder and annoying.

And then someone grabs her roughly, shaking her slightly. Telling her to open her eyes.

She fights hard to get them open and can’t help but groan when she spots Cho in front of her. He’s holding her in a dead grip on her shoulders, shaking her again.

And she tries her best to make out his words, to get what he wants from her. And what the hell is he doing here in the first place? Wasn’t he suppossed to be out of town for the weekend? Wasn’t that the reason she took those pills in the first place?

Right those pills. That’s the reason she’s so tired. Is that what he wants to know? How many she took? (Maybe he’s scared). Yes, they already did that.  _(And no it wasn’t pretty)._

„Three,“ she mumbles. „Just three.“  _(Maybe it had been four, she’s not sure)_. But four of them won’t kill her either and that’s what he wants to know, isn’t it? Must have been, because he stops shaking her. And she’s glad because it made her feel sick.

But to her own displeasure he drags her to her feet now, steadying her body with his own and telling her to walk. (Walking?) What the hell was wrong with him. There she thought she was the lunatic.

But she does what he wants her to, making a step forward and then another, before she spots a second figure in the room. Curious she stands still, trying hard to make out his features. Blinking in disbelief when she does.

„Jane?“ she mumbles.  _(And suddenly she’s not so sure if she’d taken only four)_. Maybe she’d taken too many this time. Because she’s sure there’s Patrick Jane standing in her living room and that can’t be true.

„Come on, Teresa. Keep walking.“ Cho tells her again, shoving her forward and dragging her with him out off the room.

And there she spots him again, in the doorframe. Jane. (But no this can’t be true). It can’t be Jane. Oh dear, how many pills did she take?

„Teresa, keep walking,“ Cho urges her again, dragging her along. And she keeps walking, her eye lids flickering and her knees on the verge of givig in. She’s realizing he’d taken her to the kitchen, when he steadies her against the kitchen counter.

„Come on, open your mouth,“ he tells her a second later and she simply obays too tired to fight him. „It’s just water,“ he tells her. „Drink, Teresa.“

And she does, gulping down the water greedily. How long has it been since she got to drink something? And what time is it anyway? What day? She can’t remember.

„Shall I call an ambulance?“

She blinks again. This time almost sure it is Jane standing only a few feet away from her. Looking at her puzzled.

„Jane?“ she mumbles again, trying to get a better look. Holding on to the kitchen counter to keep herself in a standing position. Blinking again. No, that can’t be true.  _(It can’t be him)._

„No, I don’t think we need one.“

She blinks again. Now sure she’s lost her mind. (Imgaining a conversation between Cho and her hallucinations). Pretty. Sounds just like her.

Or maybe Cho’s a hallucination too and not even really there. Maybe she really was losing her mind. Or maybe she’s just asleep after all.  _(Yeah, she definitely has to stop taking those pills)._

The next thing she knows her knees are giving in and she’s stumbling, falling forward. _(And then everything turns dark)._

.

Jane can’t help but stare at the unconscious women in his arms. Pale like a sheet, her dark curls knotted together and in nothing more than a disheveld button-down shirt that  _-(he’s_   _sure)-_  belonged to him a few years ago.

He wants to say something, but it’s like he forgot how to speak. And so he just keeps staring at her. And suddenly a lot of stuff makes sense.

„Is that what you call fine?“ Cho asks him, before taking her out of his arms and into his own.

Jane says nothing. Instead he follows Cho quietly, watching him carry Lisbon upstairs and placing her carefully on her bed. Covering her small form with a blanket in an all too intimitate motion, before disappearing in her bathroom and rummaging through the medicine cabinet.

„Are you sure we don’t need an ambulance?“ Jane asks Cho when he comes back into the room.

„We don’t need one, she didn’t lie.“

„How can you be so sure?“ Jane asks iritated, but Cho just shrugs.

„I’m counting her supply.“

And Jane just stares. Her supply?  _(What does that even mean?)_  His knees give away and he sinks down to the floor wearily, watching the woman on the bed in front of him.

(What the hell just happened?)

„I have to go.“

It’s Cho’s voice that makes him look up startled.

„What? No, you can’t …“

„I have to talk to my boss, Jane. And you’re going to stay here. It’s your turn, man.“

„But I don’t…“

„I don’t care, Jane. Besides she’s going to be asleep for at least another 10 hours, maybe even longer and you probably get lucky and I’ll be back until she wakes up again.“

He takes a last glanze at the sleeping woman on the bed before making his way towards the door.

„You’re calling her Teresa,“ Jane states. Not sure were this came from. Looking up at the man beside him. And Cho just gives him a look that makes clear what he missed.  _(God what did he do?)_

„She’s not my boss anymore, Jane.“ he tells him dryly. „She’s my friend.“

And with that he’s gone.

.

Jane keeps sitting there on the floor for a while, still watching her sleep. (Unsure what to do next). Unsure what to do in the first place.

He lets his gaze wander through the room, looking at the moving boxes piled up against a wall in that almost empty room. And he’s almost sure the furniture had been already here before she moved in.

There are no pictures on the walls or on the drawers, no books or cd’s on the shelfs. And he doesn’t spot a single thing he recognizes from Sacramento. The whole room impersonal.

He frowns, before he gets back up to his feet.

With a last look at her, he leaves the bedroom and walks through the hallway. He finds a guestroom and three other rooms completely empty. When he makes his way downstairs, it’s the same. He can’t find a single picture in the hallway. Not one personal belonging, beside her coat and her Sheriff Uniform jacket over the banister and two pair of shoes beside the door.

He takes a walk through the kitchen to find a few mugs and plates he’s never seen before and he’s almost sure it had already been there when she bought the house, just like the furrnitur.

Her fridge is almost empty, filled with just a few water bottles and something that looks like it had been an apple once. He finds a few instant soups and vitamin tablets in her cupboards, but nothing more.

When he comes back into her living room he just stands there for a while staring at his old couch under the window. At his favourite tea cup on her drawer.  _(Carefully glued back together)._

And he feels like crying.

It’s just then that he spots his jacket on the couch, almost covered by the blanket he knows had been his too.

He makes a few steps forward, finally sinking down on the worn leather for the first time in years. Grabbing the jacket and staring down at the traces of dried tears and mascara on the once soft fabric.

And that’s all he needs to break.

.

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there, sobbing like a kid. Crying like he hasn’t in a long time. Clutching the jacket against his chest like a lifeline, reconizing the faint scent of vanilla.  _  
_

And he can’t keep himself from thinking about a different time, years ago and he’s almost sure he hears her laugh, sitting beside him on his couch. Teasing him about an apple. A bright smile on her face that tells him how glad she’s that he’s still alive.  _(How much she loves him)._

And this time he doesn’t fight the memories from flodding back into his mind. (He’s done that far too long now).

He keeps thinking about their first kiss before he left and her small hand in hs own, out there in the desert. Her voice, begging him to come back. Over and over again.

About vanilla ice cream and sunshine, about the ocean and the wind in her hair. About a pony in her office.  _(He’s never seen her that happy before)._

And he thinks about the feeling of her her small form in his arms, dancing with her at a highschool reuinon after a closed case. Her small hand against his back, her face softly pressed against his shoulder.

And he just wants it back.  _(All of it)._

He shouldn’t have left her. He shouldn’t have run away. He shouldn’t have…

He keeps sitting there. Crying.  _(Sobbing against his jacket)._  A jacket he left carlessly behind like all his stuff. A jacket that’s now in her living room in a small town in the middle of nowhere. The only thing he left her to hold on to.

And he hates himself for all the things he’s done, all the lies he told her. All the pain he caused. All the darkness he brought into her life.  _(For dragging her down to hell with him)._  Not thinking twice, before running away in the end and leaving her alone to pick up the pieces herself.

_(And look how well that played out)._

When he’s finally able to get up again, he grabs the first unpacked moving box he can get a hold of and opens it.

He opens them all, one after another. Starting to unpack them, placing her books on the shelfs, her pictures on the drawers. Her dishes in the kitchen cupboards, right beside her coffee mugs.

One room after another, one box after the next. Until there all empty and her stuff’s carefully placed. Keeping an careful eye at her sleeping form on her bed every half an hour.

When he’s done he unfolds all the boxes, looking for a garage key and taking them out with him when he finally finds the key.

He chuckles at the sight of the car, a new black BMW, pretty sure Cho made her buy that one, while placing the empty boxes in a corner and going back into the house.

It’s almost midnight, when he goes back upstairs and into her bedroom. Finding her still asleep under the covers. And so he settles himself on the end of the mattress, watching her.

And it doesn’t take long before she starts to stir in her sleep. Tossing around, mumbling a name.  _(And he’s almost sure it’s his own)._ He slids forward slowly, before taking her hand gently into his.  _(Whispering her name)._

She stills, before opening her eyes. And for a second she just stares at him. Blinking. Again and again until she withdraws her hand and almost jumps out of her bed.

„No not again,“ she mumbles, clearly freaked out by the sight in front of her. „No not again, please.“

„Lisbon.“

„No you’re not going to talk to me. You’re not even here. You’re just in my head. Go away.“

„Lisbon…“ he stares at her confused. What the hell is she talking about? „Lisbon, it’s me.“

„That’s what you said the last time. Remember?“ She tells him, before making a step back and yelling at herself angrily „Damnit! I’m talking to a hallucination. What the hell is wrong with me?“

He watches her stumbling a few wobbly steps backwards, trying to get a hold of something to kepp herself upright. One trembling hand pressed against her head.

„Lisbon…“ he tries again. But she just keeps shaking her head furiously at him. „I told you to stop talking to me. You’re not even real. Go away!“ She’s screaming now and he really isn’t sure what to do next.

„Just calm down, okay?“ he tells her. His hands up in surrender. „Just breathe, will you?“ he whispers softly. And surprisingly she does.

„Alright. That’s it. In and out Lisbon. In and out.“

He makes his way toward her slowly. Not sure what this is about or what he is supposed to do in the first place.

„Take my hand,“ he tells her. „Take my hand and you’ll see I’m not some hallucination.“

„No, you’re not here.“ she whispers. Shaking her head. „You’re not real.“

„Yes, I am Lisbon. I’m here. Come on, just take my hand.“

„No,“ she whimpers. Tears on the verge of falling. „You’re not real.“

And she looks so frightend, so lost and so horribly broken. He just wants to run.  _(He did this to her). (This is his fault)._ All of it.

„Go away,“ she whispers again. Slowly slidding to the floor. Her knees pulled close against her chest. „Go away, please. You’re not real. Go away.“

And then he does something completely stupid. Maybe because he couldn’t stop thinking about it for over two years, maybe because he just wants to show her how real he is. (He isn’t sure).

But before she has the time to stop him he has her face clasped between his hands, his lips softly pressed against hers. And after a second of sheer surprise, of sheer joy, she kisses him back.  _(And it feels like coming home again)_.

It’s innocent at first and it reminds him of the first time he kissed her. Before he left her two years ago. But it’s getting heated by the second.

Her fingers grabbing his vest and pulling him close against her chest. His hands coming to a stop in her dark curls, before pulling her even closer and closer until he can’t stop his tears from falling anymore and they’re dripping softly against her cheeks.  _(Mixing with hers)._

He has her straddeld on his lap a second later and there’s nothing innoccent about this moment anymore. Both of them lost in whatever is left. Burning with passion and lust.

She’s tearing at his vest, hungry and greedy. Fighting with the buttons of his shirt while he’s gripping the hem of hers, trying to tear it from her flawless body.

And it’s just then, that she pulls away from him. Her cheeks flushed and her lips bruised. (Looking more beautiful then ever).  _Finally in his arms again._

„You’re here,“ she whispers, her eyes dark with desire, love and something else. „You’re really here.“

(And with that she slaps him).

**.**

**.**


	5. Part V

**For The Missing**

**Part V**

**.**

**.**

„Get out.“

That’s all Lisbon can muster, getting back up to her feet. Her eyes still glued to his face, her whole body trembling. She makes a few steps back. Aware of the fact that the only thing she’s wearing is halfway ripped of her body.

„Get out,“ she tells him again. This time louder.

„Let me explain,“ he starts. Looking up at her pleadingly and all she wants to do is slap him again.

„Explain?“ She stares at him. „You’re not going to explain anything to me. Just get out of my house.“ She doesn’t even want to know how he got in there in the first place.  _(And what the hell happend to her moving boxes?)_

„Lisbon, I…“

„I don’t want to hear it, Jane. Just get out. “ She tells him firmly, while looking through her room irritated.  _(Did he unpack her stuff?)_

„Teresa…“ he tries again and him calling her by her forename, is what make her lose her manners for good.

„Don’t you dare calling me Teresa,“ she almost spats at him. Making another step back and clutching that button-down shirt closer to her shaking form.

„Get out!“ She’s yelling now. „Just get out of my house!“

She’s glad when he takes her seriously this time and gets finally up to his feet. She’s watching him straightning his clothes and making his way to her bedroom door.  _(And she really wants him to leave)._

She needs to think and she can’t think with him in her bedroom, staring at her like that and her lips still bruised from all that kissing. Her insides still burning with passion and need and… she really needs to sit down.  _(Now)._

She let’s herself sink down on her bed, trying to breathe like a sane person and not like some lunatic. But it’s not working. Her sight gets blurry, her chest starts to hurt and she’s on the verge of hyperventilating.

„Lisbon, are you okay?“ he asks her worried, watching her from the doorframe and she just wants to laugh.  _(Okay? Did he really just ask her if she was okay?)_

„I told you to leave,“ is all she tells him, while trying her best to get her breathing under control. Knowing that if she doesn’t, he’ll never leave the room.

„Lisbon, I’m sorry.“

„Don’t start, Jane. Just go. Go.“ And she really wants him to go now, wants him to leave before she starts crying. Because she really doesn’t want him to see her cry. Doesn’t want him to see what he already knows anyway.

That she’s stupid and that’s she’s fallen for him years ago. That she needs him, that she wants him. That she can’t let go, not now or ever. That she’d been waiting for him all this time, that she would wait another lifetime if she had to.

That he can take everything she has, everything she can offer. Her heart, her soul and her mind. That she doesn’t care about justice anymore, about right or wrong. That her life is a mess anyway, with or without him, that she doesn’t care about herself as long as he’s happy.

And that she’s broken beyond repair, that there’s nothing left for him to pick up. That the woman she used to be is gone.

„Wait,“ she whispers. Looking up at him. (And she really wants to tell him).

How much she loves him, how much she missed him. An how much she still misses him, because even though he’s standing right there in the doorframe of her bedroom he’s not really there. That he never will, no matter how much she wants him too.

(But no, she’s not going to do this again). She can’t tell him. She won’t.

„Nevermind,“ is all she adds in the end. Standing up on wobbly legs and making her way to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, before sinking down to the floor in front of her bathtub. _(Hoping he’s going to leave her alone)._  But of course he doesn’t.

She keeps sitting there on the cold tiles, her knees close against her chest. Listening to Janes pleas from the other side of the door. And it hurts, more than she ever imagined it would, but she can’t get herself to open the door.

Tears are blurring her vision and she’s biting her lip furiously in an attempt to keep herself from crying. She’s not going to give in. No. Not to him and not to her own misery. Not again.

She’s pressing her hands against her ears, closing her eyes and trying to blend out his words.

She can’t do this again. She just can’t.

.

He’s not sure how long he’s standing in front of her bathroom. Knocking against the wood, begging her to open up the door for him.  _(So they can talk)._ (Yeah, right).

But she doesn’t and the heartbreaking silence at the other side, nearly makes him crack. But of course he doesn’t, now really isn’t the time. Instead he lets his gaze wander through er room, looking for something he can pick the lock with.

It’s not a polite thing to do, no sure it isn’t, but he can’t fight those images of her lifless body lying on the bathroom tiles and he just has to take a look and make sure she’s fine.  _(Well, no she won’t be fine, not entirely no)._  But as long as she’s still breathing that’s a start, right?

He spots hairpins on one of her drawers and is utterly relieved when he manages to get the door open.

He finds her curled up on the bathroom tiles in front of her bathtub, her eyes closed and even from afar with visible traces of tears on her cheeks. He makes his way towards her, whispering her name and carefully searching for her pulse at her wrist.  _(Already sure she’s just asleep again)._

For a moment he thinks about carrying her back to her bedroom, but he doesn’t want her to wake up and freak out again, so he just gets her a blanket from the bed. (Warpping it around her small form gently).

He can’t help but notice how fragile she looks and he really can’t understand where those pictures had been coming from. Those pictures that FBI lady had brought with her to show him how Lisbon and the others were coping without him.

And he remembers those pictures not just because he’d been looking at them for months and not just because he still has them hiden in his suitcase downstairs. No, he remembers because she’d looked so happy on them.  _(Happier than he’d ever seen her before)._

But the sight of the broken woman in front of him, tells him a different story and those pictures make no sense.  _(No sense at all)._

_(And so doesn’t the decision he made months ago)._

.

She must have fallen asleep somtime during the night, because when she opens her eyes again there’s sunlight streaming through her bathroom. She sits up wearily, wondering why she’s sleeping on the bathroom floor for a second, before everything comes rushing back to her.

_Jane. He’s back._

It’s just then that she realizes the bathroom door is standing ajar and she has to suppress a groan.  _(Of course he picked the lock)._

„Morning.“

Chos voice makes her jump, she looks around startled to find him sitting on the floor beside her. Looking at her quizzically.

„Tell me again, how many pills did you take yesterday?“

„You brought him back, didn’t you?“ She asks him right away, ignoring his question completely. (Fully aware of what he wants her to admit and she’s not going to anyway). „You brought Jane back to the states, didn’t you?“

He looks at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. „Yes, I did.“

She shakes her head almost angrily. „I should have known,“ she mumbles. (More to herself than to him). „Like you would leave me alone for some random case. You haven’t done that in over a year.“

„I didn’t leave you alone,“ Cho points out for her. „I got Virgil to stay with you.“

„Yeah, right,“ she huffs. „And don’t you dare trying something like that ever again. I’m not a five year old.“

But Cho just shrugs. „It’s not like it worked. right? You tricked him pretty good. I should have warned him that as soon as you start talking about Emily you just want to fool him.“

She can’t help but laugh. But he’s right. It had been a trick. _(Something Jane taught her)._

„You make me much smarter than I am,“ is what she tells him though, looking away slightly and pulling the blanket over her trembling body. Wondering when it gotten so cold.

„No, I don’t.“ He answers her firmly. „You’re far too smart for your own good.“

They fall silent for a while, both of them watching the dust particels dancing in the sunlight that’s streaming through the window pane.

„Where is he?“ She finally asks him. Not sure if she really wants to know.  _(Hoping and fearing he’d run off again)._ Knowing this time he can’t.

„Downstairs,“ Cho tells her and she just nods.  _(Dissapointed and relieved at the same time)._ And she knows how crazy that makes her. _(She really is a lost cause, isn’t she?)_

„He unpacked my stuff, didn’t he?“ She asks after a while, staring disbelievingly through the open door and back into her bedroom.

And maybe for the first time ever Cho starts to laugh.

.

She waits until Cho leaves her alone again, before stripping down the shirt and her underwear and taking a hot shower. Afterwards she takes her time getting dressed, choosing her clothes carefully. (Not in the mood for triggering any memories). Not hers, not his, not anyones. Not today.  _(Not now)._

She shakes her head doubtfully, when she spots a few of her personal belongings in her bookshelfs and on her drawer. Something not even Cho had the guts to do.  _(Not since Grace unpacked one of those boxes and Lisbon stopped talking to her for weeks)._

When she finally makes her way downstairs, she can already smell the bacon. And she can’t help but groan. Scrambled eggs and bacon.  _(Ewww)._

She finds Jane and Cho both sitting at her kitchen table, when she comes to a sudden halt in the doorframe. And for a while she just keeps standing there, watching them and thinking that if someone had told her that just a few days ago she would have laughed. Even though it’s not funny at all. (And she doesn’t feel like making fun of it either).

„So you didn’t just unpack my stuff, but went shopping too?“ She asks irritated and slightly annoyed, when she finally makes her entrance. Pretending not to notice how they’re both looking up at her.

She gets herself a mug out of the cupboard, choosing one of the old ones on purpose. Watching Jane out of the corner of her eye. (The smug grin on his face enough to make her angry).

„Had been pretty difficult,“ he tells her, putting down his fork. „Shopping I mean, it really is a small town.“

Lisbon just scuffs. „How did you get Frank to open the store for you, anyway?It’s Sunday morning after all.“ She asks with a side glance to the overfilled paper bags on the kitchen floor.

„You don’t really want to know that,“ Cho tells her blantly before putting his fork back into his mouth. And she can’t help but spin around, spilling coffee over the kitchen counter in the process.

„What did he do?“ She asks alarmed. „Kimball?“

But he just keeps eating and that wicked grin that spreads over Janes face makes her want to throw her mug at him. „What did you do, Jane?“ she asks him again, pretty sure she won’t like it. „Tell me, Jane!“

„Nothing bad Lisbon, I swear,“ he tells her with a chuckle, his hands already up in surrender. And Lisbon can‘ help but stare. It’s like a deja’vu.

They already did that, even though of course not in this house, no. Back in Sacramento, back at the CBI. More than two years ago when she still was a senior agent and not some police chief in the middle of nowhere watching grade schoolers on their way to school.

Back then when she’d been a independent woman, strong and perfectly in control over her emotions and herself. (It seems like a lifetime away and still feels like nothing ever happened).

„You know what, Jane“, she tells him. „Kimball’s right. I don’t really want to know.“ She shakes her head at herself, before leaning back against the kitchen counter, sipping at her coffee. „So, when are you guys leaving?“

„We aren’t.“

Chos answer, makes her choke. „What?“ she asks coughing.

„We’ll I’m leaving, I have to work. But Jane won’t, at least for now.“

„You’ve got to be kidding,“ she mutters. Staring at Chos face and realizing he means what he says. „You can’t be serious,“ she says disbelievingly, while putting down her mug.

„Kimball, please tell me you’re not serious!“ She’s already on the verge of freaking out. What the hell is going on?

She tries her best to ignore Janes puzzled look, while she’s watching Cho getting up to his feet and leading her out of the kitchen and into the living room.

„He has to stay somewhere,“ he tells her firmly when they’re out of earshot.

„Yeah I get that, but not here. Not with me!“

„Well, Abbott thinks he can’t do much damage here and …“

„Oh, that’s crap,“ Lisbon interrupts him furiously. „Because that worked so well the last time we did that?“ She can’t believe Cho’s being serious.  _(Or agent Abbott for that matter)._

„Abbott thinks it might would have, if he’d let you go sooner.“  _(Oh great, now he’d come to his senses?)_  Two years later?

„I’m not going to do this again, Kimball,“ she tells him, shaking her head firmly. She doesn’t want to and she’s not going to. No. No way.

But the look on Chos face already tells her it’s not up to her anyway. _(Once again)._

„You’re not going to have much of a choice here,“ her tells her apologetically and she just wants to scream.

„This is your fault“, she all but whispers. „If you hadn’t brought him back, I…“ And she stops. Not sure what to say. Because she knows he did it for her. (For him too, of course, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore). But mostly for her.

How should he’ve known she was too messed up anyway? It’s not like he could read her mind, too.

„God, I hate you!“ is all she can muster, before spinning around fiercely and making her way into the hallway and right through the front door.

 _Just breathe, Teresa. Just breathe_ , she tells herself storming out on her porch and stopping dead in her tracks, when she gets a look at the sight in front of her.

_It’s snowing._

For a moment she just stares. Watching white puffy flakes flying through the air and tumbling down to earth. Amazed and her anger completely forgotten, she makes her way down the porch looking up into the sky, observing the snowflakes on their way down. And it must be snowing for hours now, by the depth of the snow in her front yard.

It looks beautiful and she can’t help but holding her face toward the sky and trying to catch a few flakes with her bare hands.

„Enjoying the first snowfall, Chief Lisbon?“

She looks around, to find Matthew watching her from his car on the street. He’s smiling at her and she can’t help but smile too, when she makes her way through the snow towards his car.

„I didn’t even realize it had been snowing,“ she tells him laughing, waving through the rolled down windows at Emily on the backseat.

„Morning, sweetie!“ she greets her. „Where are you guys heading to?“

„The mountains!“ The little girl tells her smiling. „Daddy made me a new sled and we want to try it.“

„You did?“ Lisbon asks Matthew impressed and sees him blush.

„Well, I …“ he starts, but it’s Emily who saves him from further explanations when she interrupts them.

„Do you want to come with us, Teresa?“ The girl asks her from the backseat, looking at her hopefully. „We have hot chocolate and cookies, it’s going to be fun!“

Teresa shakes her head laughing. „I would love to really, but…“ She stops midsentence. Imagining herself at that kitchen table with Jane and Cho looking at her like she lost her mind for the rest of the day. Making decisions without even asking her.

No, she’s not going back in there. _(She would deal with that later)._

„You know what, sweetie,“ she tells the girl. „I would love to!“

Emily is squealing with joy, while Lisbon takes a quick side glance at Matthew to make sure he’s alright with that. But he just nods at her approvingly.

„I’m going to get my coat,“ she tells them, already on her way back to the house where Cho is waiting for her in the doorframe.

„Where do you think you’re going?“ he asks her, while she’s grabbing her coat from the banister. And it’s that look he gives her that makes her angry all over again.

„I’m going to spend the day with Matthew and Emily in the mountains,“ she explains firmly, sliding her arms into her coat.

„Teresa, you can’t just…“ he starts and she can’t help but laugh at him.

„Why?“ she aks him almost teasingly. „You think I need you to tell me what to do?“

„You know that’s not what I meant.“

„I don’t care,“ she mumbles angrily making her way back out the door. And she knows she’s being childish, but she can’t stop the words from spilling. „And besides, you’re the one who brought him back. So he’s your problem now.“

.

This woman is going to be the death of him, Cho already knows. Sooner or later he’s just going to shot himself to get out of this freaking mess.  _(What had he gotten himself into?)_

With his arms crossed over his chest he’s watching her climbing into Matthews truck, sliding on the backseat next to Emily. A happy smile on her lips.

And he knows it’s not all fake. That little girl does make her smile, does make her happy in a way no one else can.  _(But it wasn’t enough though)._ And usually things got even worse afterwards. _(And he really had no time for that)._

He’s watching the car disappear with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, when Janes voice brings him back to his spot on the front porch.

„So who’s this guy? And what’s with the girl on the backseat?“

**.**

**.**


End file.
